


Regret

by csvolny



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Max, F/F, POV Max, Sacrificed Chloe, infinite timelines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 00:50:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19983325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/csvolny/pseuds/csvolny
Summary: Five years after the events of Life is Strange, Max has still not adjusted to living life without her closest friend wishing she could have been more.





	Regret

I sit alone in the coffee shop. Again. The advantage of being a freelance photographer is being able to sit where ever, when ever; nobody to answer to except me.

“So, boss, I'm going to take some time this afternoon; I had another fight with Warren and I need to process. You mind?'

“Why, no, Max, take all the time you need. I hope you figure things out.”

I laugh, looking around; I've developed the habit of talking out loud when I'm talking to myself.

“Not a good sign, dumb fuck,” Chloe's effect on me is still apparent, I was never so vulgar!

I take a sip of coffee and drift off. Warren is right, but I'm still angry that he suspects me of using my power.

-o-o-o-

I'm taking my college chemistry midterm; not only am I bad at it, I really don't like it. I wouldn't have taken it if it wasn't the only science elective I could cram in to my schedule at this time. Where was Warren or Brooke when you needed them? It's testing our knowledge of the periodic table and some “easy” formulas. Well, I don't really have a choice. I reach down and grab my book, looking up the answers quickly, and then rewinding before the teacher can yell at me. I feel a little guilty but it's not like I use this for anything life altering, right? Chloe would be proud of me; I'm using my powers for what she thought I should have all along.

-o-o-o-

“So, what makes you think you'd be qualified for the position of staff photographer for the Arcadia Bay Journal?” the interviewer asks me.

“Well, Sir, I've been interested in photography ever since I could remember; my best friend....” My voice catches, and I stop.

“Yes, Miss Caufield?” he asks. I take a deep breath.

“I... uh... used to take all kinds of action shots with my best friend and at school. My teacher used to tell me that I had a gift... um... until he got arrested.”

“Oh, your teacher was Mr. Jefferson? Interesting!”

We go along for awhile and I get all of the technical questions right, but not so much the touchy-feely stuff. I was better at this than Chloe, but I'm still an incompetent loser.

“That will be all, Miss Caufield. We'll be touch,” he offers to shake my hand. _I know what that means._

“Sir, can I ask... for... um... my next interview, where... uh... you think... I mean... where I went wrong?”

“Truthfully, Miss Caufield, we're looking for someone with, how shall I say it, quite a bit more confidence. Someone who is not going to hesitate to put themselves into a situation to take the shot, no matter the cost.”

“Thank you,” I shake his hand and rewind.

“So, what makes you think you'd be qualified for the position of staff photographer for the Arcadia Bay Journal?” the interviewer asks me.

“Honestly, Sir, when I was in school, I carried my camera around constantly, and when I saw something that I needed to take a picture of, I would jump in to get the shot.” I force a laugh and lied, “Sometimes this got me in trouble! I was often called into the office to explain myself. One of my teachers used to say, 'The number one rule is: Always take the shot,' and I've tried to live by that.”

At the end of the interview, he stands up and shakes my hand, “Miss Caufield, I'm very impressed. When do you think you can start?”

I begin working for the Arcadia Bay Journal but within about a year, they don't want a staff photographer, only contract work. I get laid off, and I start working for them as a contractor. It turns out to be for the best anyway; contract work is so much more fulfilling.

-o-o-o-

I walk into the office of the magazine, 'Oregon Travel' and talk to the receptionist, “I'm Max Caufield, I have an appointment.”

“Go right on in, Ms. Caufield, Mr. Brown is waiting for you.”

I go into his office, I've emailed this man several times before but this is the first time I've seen him in person and I'm going to try selling pictures to him as a freelancer.

“Mr. Brown, how are you today?”

“Now, Max, I think we know each other well enough for you to call me Greg. What can I do for you?”

I put a portfolio on his desk, “Well... Greg, I was wondering if you'd be interested in buying some of these for the magazine. They're pictures from the Arcadia Bay area; some of the town, the forest around it, the lighthouse.”

“Oh excellent, Arcadia Bay is like one of the hidden jewels of Oregon.” _His standards of jewelry must be pretty shitty; Arcadia Bay is a hole. Get out of my head, Chloe._

He starts flipping through the book, and stops every so often to ask questions or simply pull a picture out and put it on his desk. He comes to a section that I'd forgotten was in the book; the seedy, run down side of Arcadia Bay, pictures of the junkyard, the old burnt out mill, the numerous homeless people, the garbage piles up at the lighthouse. He looks up at me questioningly.

“Damn, sorry about that. Those aren't for sale, at least not to your magazine. Even a hidden jewel has trash.”

He laughs, and finishes going through the book taking a few more pictures; in all he took twenty. “I think I'd like to buy these. How much?”

“A lot of work went into making sure they came out right. How about twenty dollars a print?”

“Deal,” he reaches over to shake my hand. _Way to easy, I look like I think my pictures are trash._ I rewind.

“A lot of work went into making sure they came out right. How about two hundred a print?”

“Hmm,” he looks over the pictures again. “No, I don't think so, I'll just go out and take them myself.”

_No, still not right, now I just look delusional._ I rewind.

“A lot of work went into making sure they came out right. How about seventy-five dollars a print?”

He looks at the pictures again, “How about fifty dollars a print?”

I smile, “Sounds good” and shake his hand.

-o-o-o-

The police finally let me go after I told them everything about Nathan and Mr. Jefferson making it sound like Nathan had been mumbling to himself the whole time he was in the bathroom. I stagger out into the station parking lot, tears rolling down my cheeks. I stumble down the steps and fall into one of the benches, unable to move more. Warren was waiting for me and comes to sit beside me.

“Max? I'm sorry you had to see that.” He puts his arms around me, “It's okay to cry, let it out. I ... love that you're such a warm person to cry so much for a stranger.”

I pull away, shouting, “No! You don't understand. She was my best friend, she was my entire world and I let her die, Warren. I... just sat there... while Nathan waved his fucking gun around. And. Let. Her. Die.”

I collapse in his arms, “How can that be the right decision if it hurts so badly? You know physics, Warren.” I pull away again and scream in his face, “Why was that the right thing to do?!”

For a long time we sit on the bench, him holding me with a confused look on his face, and me shaking with uncontrollable sobs.

I finally take a deep breath and sit up on the bench, “I'm sorry, Warren, I think I owe you a better explanation. Let's go get some coffee while I figure out how to tell you.”

We sit in the diner, Joyce is not on shift, she's at the hospital with... what's left of Chloe. My breath catches again and I feel the tears starting again. I take a deep breath.

“While I was in Mr. Jefferson's class, I had a vision of a tornado destroying Arcadia Bay. I woke up and went to the bathroom where I saw Nathan Prescott kill Chloe Price and I discovered... don't think I'm crazy, Warren because I'm not.”

“Never, Max.”

“I found that I could rewind time. I rewound and hit the fire alarm so that he didn't have time to shoot her. Chloe and I reunited after five years apart, and in one week so many things happened and Chloe and I became even closer than we were before. I think more than friends, but we didn't have enough time to figure it out. But we discovered that the tornado was my fault and it might have been because I kept Chloe alive. Not just from Nathan, I saved her a bunch of times during the week. I had messed around with time so much that it wasn't able to fix itself and catch up.”

I take a deep breath again and Warren is staring at me, “I don't know what to say, Max. I mean, I believe you, I've read about stuff like this. I can recommend some books and websites.”

“But Warren, maybe I didn't have to let her die. Before I ever used my power, I was in the bathroom anyway, I could have just stepped out and distracted Nathan; Chloe was a bad ass, she would have kicked his ass with no problem.”

“Max, there's no way for you to know that. Yes, you were there the very first time, and you didn't need to rewind, but if you went back and did you would be rewinding to redo what you had done. Maybe there is no way to recover from that. Maybe Nathan would have shot you instead.”

“Maybe, Warren, and maybe that would have been better than the way I feel right now.”

-o-o-o-

“Warren, that's amazing!” I said after he told me about his recent experiment at the college; he was in grad school studying to be a research physicist. There was a dull tone in my voice, because I'd just rewound for the third time to get it right; he was getting really touchy lately about how I responded to him. I want to make Warren happy but sometimes it is such a chore. Lately, my confused feelings for Chloe were surfacing again; I wasn't sure I still wanted to even be with Warren.

He looks suspicious, “I thought you said you weren't going to rewind anymore?”

“What? Why would you think...? I didn't!” _How does he know? Am I that bad of an actor?_

“Max, you promised. You explained the catastrophe that happened when you... the last time. You know what can happen.”

“Why do you think that, Warren?” My voice went up an octave involuntarily. “So, now I'm not allowed to say anything to you because you'll think I rewound just to get it right?”

“No, that's not... Well, yes, actually. How can I trust what you're saying? How do I know you haven't rewound a hundred times to get it right? You told me you've cheated on a test that way. You landed your first job that way. You've sold some of your pictures that way. I just... don't think I can trust you anymore.”

“What difference does it make, Warren? Do my words make you feel better? Who cares if I rewind, it shows I care!” I yell at him.

“Is this the way Chloe wanted you to act?” He throws it in my face, painfully.

Tears immediately well up in my eyes, and I strain my voice answering him, “Don't you dare mention Chloe! You don't have that right! Nobody does! That right was taken from everybody when... I... I killed her!” I slam the door leaving the apartment.

-o-o-o-

I take another sip of coffee, now my mind is on Chloe. The pain has never left, I didn't have to let her go. _I could have saved her without rewinding anything. Couldn't I?_

I'm staring out the window one minute, and the next I'm staring at the Blackwell bathroom wall sitting on the floor. “Whoa, what the fuck?” I say aloud. The door opens and I hear Nathan Prescott's voice. I struggle not to shout out loud and attract his attention, while I wait for Chloe to show up. _I'm not pulling the alarm this time, I'm not._

She comes in and without hesitation, I run from around the corner shouting, “Chloe, he's got a gun!” and slam into Nathan just as he's turning to see what's going on. Between Chloe and I we're able to knock the gun out of his hand, but he pushes me away and punches Chloe in the face as he runs out of the bathroom.

I run up and throw my arms around her, “Chloe, I never stopped loving you, you were always in my heart.”

She looks confused and pushes me away,”Whoa, who the hell are you? This is nice and all but I gotta bounce.” She grabs Nathan's gun, puts it away and leaves the bathroom without looking at me twice.

I'm unable to move from shock. _What just happened? Why doesn't Chloe know who I am? She was able to recognize me from the cab of her truck before, and now she doesn't know who I am when I hug her? This can't be._ The class bell rings and I'm startled out of my reverie.

“Shit,” I remember. “It's a normal school day now!” I don't remember what class I have anymore! “Shit, shit, shit.” I run out of the bathroom hoping that memory will jog itself but it doesn't. I run to my locker and find my schedule, thankfully I'm such a pack rat. It's afternoon so all I have is Calculus and then I can get the hell out of here.

I sit through class woodenly, trying to pay attention but not able to. Fortunately, the teacher doesn't ask me any questions, she's too busy lecturing or picking on other kids. When the final bell rings I put my stuff in my locker and head for the front door, head down, to think what to do. I leave the building and wander around seeing if anyone can tell me what's going on without my asking directly. I see all the familiar faces from school and that still live in the area. Well, in five years they will.

I come up to each of them and say 'hi' but they all talk to me cautiously, like I'm about to explode. Victoria Chase even gets defensive around me, and physically takes a step back! It's as if I've suddenly sprouted horns and they're all scared of me now. I'm able to ask a couple of questions, about Chloe, Rachel and Mr. Jefferson; nobody has heard of Rachel, Mr. Jefferson was arrested about a year after he started here and Chloe is a dropout loser. But everyone is really short with me, and obviously wants me away from them as quickly as possible. _What have I done? Why is everyone so messed up?_ I head for the dormitory to search my room for clues.

When I reach my room, the whiteboard says “Maxine C.” in formal writing that is obviously my handwriting. _Well, that's not right. I have never gone by Maxine in my entire life._ I erase that and leave the board empty before going in my room. I open the door and stop dead in complete surprise. The room is barren, having just the furniture given to us by the school and nothing on the walls at all. I don't even have a laptop sitting on the desk. Lisa is gone, no pictures on the shelves, no books, nothing. Not even the teddy bear.

“Who the hell lives here?” I ask the eerie, empty room.

Maybe I can see if Chloe's mom knows something, or where I can find Chloe. I head to the front of the building to get on the bus and go to the diner. When I get there, I go sit in my normal booth at the end near the jukebox. Joyce comes by with a menu.

She puts it down in front of me. “Hello, I haven't seen you before. Are you new here in Arcadia Bay?”

I'm able to recover because of the cold shoulder I've been given at school. “Um... yes, Ma'am, I kind of just arrived to go to Blackwell. I don't even need this... I've... uh... heard good things about your Belgian Waffles.”

“Coming right up.”

I check my pockets quickly to make sure I have money, I'm sure I won't get any more free meals from the Two Whales. When she comes back, I decide to take a risk.

“Ma'am, I'm looking for someone named Chloe Price. Have you heard of her by any chance? She's not at the school.”

“No, she wouldn't be, she was expelled awhile ago. Why do you want her? Does she owe you money?” she asks angrily.

“Um... no, nothing like that. I was told that she had information that would help me. You see I'm looking for... um... my old house.” I cringe inwardly, that sounds really stupid, “It's not there anymore and I used to live here.”

“Oh, well, she's at work right now. She's at the Auto Mechanic on Main Street.”

She eyes me suspiciously and walks away. I pay for my meal, leaving Joyce a nice tip. As I exit the diner, I decide to go up to the junkyard to see if there's anything different up there. Chloe had that little shack, maybe she still has it. I walk along the tracks the way Chloe and I used to, thinking about what's happening.

There has to be some answer to this. I didn't make the jump, I was pulled back, against my will. This cannot be the same timeline. No one wants to talk to me, even Victoria and she would never resist a chance to try and be a bitch. It has to be a different person, but what would make me turn so nasty? And where is she now? Can she control time? Did she screw everything up? Did I screw everything up?

When I get to the junkyard, the shack has clearly been used but it is not setup the way Chloe set it up. There are a lot of my pictures on the wall, my clothes spread all over the the floor, quite a few looking like something I wouldn't be caught dead in and some boxes with a bunch of my stuff in them, including my laptop. “What the hell? Why would I want to live here?”

I leave the shack and wander around the junkyard. I am drawn to where Nathan and Mr. Jefferson buried Rachel. The ground looks undisturbed but I dig around anyway. There is nothing here. Rachel, clearly, has never been to Arcadia Bay. There were no posters of her at school, her name wasn't on the map showing everyone's room number and nobody had heard of her.

“What's going on?” I shout to the sky.

_I've got to find Chloe, she's the only person I've ever been able to talk to about this._

I go to the mechanic shop and ask for Chloe. The guy pokes his head around the corner and shouts, “Hey Price, someone wants to talk to you! I'm sure you fucked up again, she looks pissed.” He looks back and winks at me, “Just to hurry her along.”

Chloe walks up wiping her hands on a rag. It's my Chloe; her blue hair shining in the light, her beautiful but angry face, and always just slightly confused with blustering confidence looking absurdly attractive in her coveralls with the top hanging down showing her t-shirt. I inhale sharply; _I can't fuck this up. I need her._

“Oh, it's you,” she says, “What's the matter?” She gestures dramatically down at herself, “Can't get enough of this? I know it. All the girls want to be with me, all the boys want to be me.” The guy behind the counter rolls his eyes and pushes her away. “Take it outside, Price, we've got real work to do here.”

We walk outside and typical of my Chloe she wastes no time, “What do you want? I don't owe you any money, I'd remember you.” She eyes me up and down and I blush.

“Are you... hitting on me?”

“Hey, you're the one who threw herself at me, remember? Told me you never stopped loving me.” She stops and looks at me again, lighting up a cigarette, “Want to explain that to me?”

I stare at her, for a long time wondering how I'm going to do this. This Chloe seems the same but just a bit more confident, and she seems better adjusted than my Chloe.

“I don't actually know how. What I say is going to sound insane, and you'd be right to think that. It'll also take a long time. Do you have time or can we meet after work or something?”

“How did you know where to find me?”

I think carefully, “I met someone at the Two Whales diner who knew you and where to find you.”

“Oh, that's my mom. Okay, I don't know why, but for some reason I think I want to talk to you more. And not just because you're cute and were all over me either. I get off at six. Meet me at the diner, dinner's on me.” She tossed her cigarette away and went back into the garage, turning around and looking back coyly, waving.

Well that was weird but my heart sores. I've got Chloe back, now I just have to keep her. I go to my room to wait for six o'clock. Even this place is better than hanging out at the junkyard; I think I'm going to move all of my stuff from there back to here. For starters I can do this, I put a message on the whiteboard. “I'm sorry I'm such a bitch. Please forgive me, I'll do better.” and sign it Max. I take the bus back to the diner and sit in my normal booth again. Joyce comes up and offers me a menu.

“I'm supposed to meet Chloe here.”

She laughs, but looks me over, “Hmm, how do you know my Chloe?” She looks at me intently, trying to determine what kind of a person I am, just by strength of will.

“Um... we met earlier today by accident.” I don't know how much she knows about what Chloe does; I'm assuming she was still trying to blackmail Nathan. Of course, this timeline is so fucked up, she could have been going to meet him for a secret tryst. _Gross, why did I have to think that? That's disgusting._

Chloe walks in and talks to Justin and Trevor in the booth, where they always are, and then heads down to my booth.

“Mom, leave her alone. No one's taking your daughter away from you.” She sits dramatically in the booth. “Can I be alone on my date, or are you going to chaperon?”

“Chloe, stop it. You're embarrassing the young lady. I'm Joyce.”

“I'm Max. Max Caufield. It's nice to meet you, um... Mrs. Price,” I answer.

Chloe interrupted, “Her name is Madsen. She married some comical jackass from the army. So maybe we should call her Mrs. Sargent Madsen or some shit.” She waves her hands making me laugh.

“Chloe Price, you take that back. You two have been getting along so well lately.”

“Yeah, whatever. Mom,” She gestures at me, “If you don't mind.” Joyce shakes her head and walks away.

“I'm starving, let's eat and then you can tell me why you want me so badly; I mean other than the obvious reasons,” she looks at me and I find myself blushing again.

I fall into the same habits I had in the other life, “You're out of control, Chloe. But yes, let's eat.”

I look at the menu this time, “I'll have one of these Two Whales burgers, fries and a coke.”

“Good choice,” she turns to the counter, “Hey mom, two whale burgers, fries and cokes.” She turns back to me, and then to Joyce again, “Please!” _Wow, she really is different; my Chloe would never have bothered to say please._

“So, uh... Max was it? Is that short for something?”

“Maxine, but no one is allowed to ever call me that. Period. Not even my parents.”

“Why not, it's a good name.” She looked at me again, “It suits you.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She laughs but I start, “Chloe,” and then stop again.

“You know what, Max. I kind of think you're a nut job right now anyway. Trust me, I doubt there's a lot you can say that'll make it worse. The best thing is to just start talking. I'll ask questions as they come to me. Deal?”

I take a breath, “Deal. Chloe, tell me everything about your life since about the third grade. Do you remember meeting me in school?”

She squints her eyes, and is quiet in thought for a bit, “Wait a minute! Yes, you were that freak in third grade that had a melt down and had to be removed from class! We never saw you again, and I kind of forgot about it. What the hell happened to you anyway?”

“What? Oh shit, I have no idea.” _What on earth would have happened to a third grade me to meltdown?_ “You just made this weird... um... weirder,” I amend, seeing her face. “So we never grew up together. How come your name is Price but your mother's is Madsen?”

She looks serious for a minute and then shrugs, “My dad was killed in a car accident five years ago.” I nod my head and she adds, “Why does it look like you know that already?”

“In a minute. Did you ever go to Blackwell Academy?”

She laughs, “Yeah, but we parted company two years ago. Me and school and Ray Wells just don't get along. I got my G.E.D. last month.”

“Don't tell me, you were kicked out for insubordination, cutting classes and drug use.”

“Yep, that's got me all over it.”

“Rachel Amber?”

She shakes her head, “Never heard of her. Should I have?”

“Probably not. Okay, here goes.”

With her staring at me, I tell her all about our life together; growing up, playing pirates, I describe her house in detail, tell her what her favorite foods are, what she wanted to be when she grew up, tell her I left for Seattle five years ago. She met Rachel Amber and Rachel took my place. I stop short of telling her about the time travel.

She doesn't say anything so I do. “Well?”

“I still want to be a pirate. How fucking cool would that be? But you're obviously not done yet. If all of this is true, how come I don't know about it? And why do you know so many details about me and my life?”

“Okay, what I said was weird but possibly doable, right?”

She n ods, “If you're a stalker, sure.”

“This is the... to quote you... a different you... the 'bat shit crazy' part. There is a time where Nathan Prescott shoots you in the bathroom. There is also a time where I push the fire alarm before he is able to shoot you. In both of those times there is a teacher named Mark Jefferson, who conspired with Nathan to kidnap and torture girls from Blackwell. These two also killed Rachel Amber and buried her body in the junkyard. But Chloe, I went to the junkyard today; she is not there. And Mark Jefferson was arrested awhile ago. In the time where I saved you, you and I figure out about Mr. Jefferson and Nathan and get them arrested.”

I pause to gauge if I lost her or not. She's still there. Dinner has come and she's eaten hers, but I'm not able to eat mine. Chloe is helping herself to my fries, with a shrug.

“Chloe, when you got shot... this morning, I found that I was able to rewind time. That's how I was able to save you. While we were getting clues to what happened to Rachel I had to save you a couple of more times. Because of this, the... timeline I guess, couldn't fix itself. I was messing around with rewinding and fixing things so much that a giant tornado was created which was going to wipe out Arcadia Bay. You figured out that in order to stop that from happening, I had to let you go and let Nathan kill you.”

I reached over and took her hands, and she didn't pull away, “Chloe, it was the worst decision of my life. I let you convince me and I've lived the next five years with guilt, regret and missing you. I look like I'm 18 but where I come from, it's 2018 and I'm 23 with a college degree and a job as a photographer. But this life here, this is not the way it's supposed to be. I don't know why we've never met, I don't know where Rachel is. When I rewind I can only go back at most a couple of minutes unless I have the help of a photograph to focus on.”

She squeezes my fingers, “Okay, let's say all of this is true. Why are you here now? Did you come to fix everything?”

“No, I don't know why I'm here. I was just pulled back. I figured it was because I've never stopped lo... um... thinking about you. I certainly didn't do it, and I've never been able to come back this far anyway without a picture. I don't have any of these pictures anymore.”

She pulls her hands away and crosses them on her chest, “Wait, I know who you are.” She jerks her thumb over her back, “Those two guys are students at Blackwell, Trevor and Justin. We all have the same dealer. I know what happens at Blackwell through those guys. You're the lunatic, Maxine Manson, that every one is afraid of. You're psycho-crazy. They've told me how you've gone off on anybody who tries to talk to you. You've managed to isolate yourself, serial killer style.”

“Yeah, I've been figuring that out. I don't know who... that Max is. Trust me, I'm quiet but I'm not unfriendly. You've been talking to me for how long now? Do I seem like that to you?”

“No, and that's part of the reason that I'm finding myself still listening. Your story is ridiculous and total bullshit but I don't have an explanation. Why do you know things about me and my room and my life that you couldn't possibly know? Some how, Max, looking at you, being with you, feels... right.” She puts her hands back on the table and takes mine this time.

“Let's go up to the lighthouse and talk some more about it.”

We both stand up and head for the door. Joyce comes hurrying over, “Where are you two off to?”

“Damn, Mom, I'm taking her back to the house to ravish her; make sure you knock before coming in, we don't know which room the mood is going to strike us.”

“Chloe! I'm allowed to ask what you're doing, I'm your mother.”

I interrupt, “She's going to have buy me more than a Two Whales burger before that happens! Ignore her Mrs. Madsen, we're going to take a walk around the lighthouse.”

Joyce looks at me approvingly, “Thank you, Max. Chloe, watch how Max talks to people, you can learn something.”

“Thanks, Max, now I know what side you're on,” but she's smiling.

We go outside the diner and she directs me over to her truck. She doesn't have the beat up truck she had when I knew her before. It's a nicer, newer one, but it's still been decorated, Chloe Price Style. Some things are incapable of change, I guess. We drive up to the lighthouse, and talk while we're walking up the path.

“So tell me about this Rachel Amber person. Is she somebody I need to concern myself about?” She reaches down and takes my hand. I feel myself flushing again, but everything is right, the way it should be. Well, almost.

“I never met her. She was... killed before I came back to Arcadia Bay. I think the two of you were... um... a couple?”

“Yeah, I swing that way. I started to suspect when I was a sophomore, but ignored it for a couple of years. Ever see Blade Runner?”

“Well, yes, you and I watched it a bunch of times. We'd have movie nights almost every weekend. That was our favorite. You always loved Pris.”

“Still do,” she gloated. “She's my celebrity crush.” She stops and looks at me, “You know, it's going to take sometime to get used to you telling me about stuff you and I did together. When did you know about girls?” She started walking again, nudging my shoulder, still holding my hand.

“Well... um... that was because of you, really, but we didn't have enough time to check it out,” I answer. I don't know how to tell her about Warren. _I'll wait for that, I don't want to ruin this moment._

We reach the top and go sit on the bench, staring out into the bay.

“I mostly believe you because... well, I want to. You seem like a sweet person, and... other reasons. But I want proof.”

I start laughing, “Yeah, you made me do that before too. Then, I was able to guess what was in your pockets; I made you show me, rewound time and then told you.”

She looks confused, “But how does that.... Oh! You rewind, but not me, so I go back to not knowing that I just showed you what was in my pockets. Cool. Remind me that I have a question about that, just say 'create an alternate timeline.' Okay, here's what I got.”

I rewind and tell her what's in her pockets. She looks surprised, “Okay, that's pretty cool, I just got chills.” She sees me laughing, “What? Did I say that last time too?”

I hug her, “Yes, but I'm glad to see that some things can't be changed. You also told me to say to you 'create an alternate timeline'”.

“Why would I want you to say that?”

“Well, I just told you that to tell what was in your pockets, I made you show me and then rewound time to before you showed me.”

“Ah, okay. So it's a big theme in science-fiction to have time travelers. What often happens is that for each time they jump around time, a separate reality is setup, making alternate timelines. There's also a theory for real life physicists, I think, where every decision ever made by anyone has a branching timeline created. So, for example, I can pick to go left or right and two branches are created where I do each.” She nudges my shoulder, “Or say, I can choose to hold the girl's hand or not.”

“I get that,” I answer, casually sliding a little closer to her.

“Most of those decisions are ultimately meaningless, right? Who cares if I go left or right, as long as I get to the destination, and science-fiction usually has those wash out. But for the others, it can be pretty important.” She very carefully takes my hand and smiles at me. “See? So, we have a bunch of timelines created with hundreds of tiny little differences.”

“How did you get so damned intelligent all of a sudden? The Chloe Price I knew was a serious doofus. And what does that even mean?”

She pushes me, “Shut up or you'll regret it. I love this shit, okay. It means, to me, that the universe is one crowded, messed up mother-fucker because there's a lot of shit floating around out there that is almost identical except for one insignificant change. It also means, that if we can figure this power out, we can trace down these timelines and maybe figure out who the hell is fucking with this one, and why.”

“So, today, when I rewound to tell you what was in your pockets, I created another... reality?”

“Yeah, pretty freaking awesome, right?”

“That seems like a bit too awesome of a responsibility for a dweeb like me to have.”

She squeezes my hand, “Don't think like that, you got this for a reason. We can't know what that reason is so let's just fuck around with it!”

I start laughing and lay my head on her shoulder, “Chloe, I've missed you so much these past five years. You can't imagine how lucky I feel right now.” She let's go of my hand and puts her arm around my shoulders.

“That makes two of us, for some reason.”

We sit for a long time at the lighthouse. I tell her about the shack at the junkyard, and how I think I want to move my stuff from there to my room at Blackwell. “The room is probably more comfortable than sleeping in a shack made of cement blocks.”

“I don't know, Max, that place sounds pretty awesome! I wouldn't mind moving out of my mom's house to there myself.”

“You did that once, Chloe. You had it decked out with your friend Rachel. It was pretty cozy; it kind of looked like a honeymoon suite.” I'm trying to embarrass her and I succeed, she turns a shade of red.

I don't say anything more, just stay where I am with her arm around me. “Do you think I can just stay here?” I ask. “Is there any reason I have to go back to my timeline?”

“You mean except for the fact that a version of you is already here? None I know about, but I'm hardly the expert, I just like reading about this shit.”

We sit for a while longer talking about the usual first date, get to know you things. I tell her about some of the stuff I got up to in school; nothing really, I'm a boring loser. I did get drunk for the first time on my 21st birthday, but I didn't like it, and I've never been drunk since. She tells me about her interest in fixing cars; it came from her dad, but she's been able to connect with David because of it. “He's still a dweeb but he makes my mom happy, so I can't complain.”

“Chloe, after you died, I was confused, and I started dating a guy named Warren. We live together, but I am not happy with him. I just want you to know, I don't want any surprises.”

“I've been with a couple of boys before I pulled my head out of my ass, too. The past is dead.... Well, okay, for normal people it is. I don't know what the fuck is going on with you so you need to get your shit together.” She squeezes me tightly.

We stop talking for awhile, looking out over the bay.

“For the past five years, I've kept comparing everything in my life to you. How would Chloe have liked this? What would you have done?”

“Dude! We should totally get buttons and t-shirts made, WWCD! What Would Chloe Do?”

I push her and sit away from her, “You're ridiculous. What time is it? I'm probably late for Blackwell's curfew.”

“I don't have a watch, but I'm sure you are. You talk too much. Let's go get your stuff, and then you can crash at my place. I'll drive you to school tomorrow.”

As we're walking down the path, a girl is coming up it, at the corner we almost bump into each other. She stops, looks at us holding hands, back up at our faces and yells, “Fuck.” She takes off running as fast as she can.

It was me.

“What the fuck?” Chloe shouts, “Did Frank give me some bad shit?”

“No, Chloe, that was me. We found her!” I start running down the path to try and catch up. “Hurry!”

Chloe starts running too, and we run down the twisting path hearing her ahead of us, but not able to catch up to her. We reach the bottom where there's a bigger picnic area than the one up at the lighthouse.

“I can't see her,” I tell Chloe, “I'm going to look around, you do to.” I wander around looking frantically to try and find her. Go into the bathrooms, knock on a shed door, but I can't find anybody. I go back and talk to Chloe.

“Damn, she got away,” I complain.

“Do you think she's gone back to her shed at the junkyard?”

I look at her sharply, “I never thought of that! Let's go!”

We get to the junkyard and go straight to the shed, but she's not there. All of her stuff still is though.

“You know, Max, if we take this stuff, she's probably going to come looking for you. We can dig around her laptop and see what she's been doing maybe. But not to the dorm, I won't be able to keep an eye on you.”

I look at her coyly, “What? You want to keep an eye on me? How sweet.”

“Knock that mush off, I just meant that there's safety in... uh... numbers.”

I stand next to her and bump her hip, “Yeah, okay, that's what you meant. Let's carry her stuff to your truck.” We start to pack everything up. While we're taking the pictures down, I see that there's some pretty cool shots in there but only some of them are Polaroids; she seems to have moved to using a digital camera. While we're doing that, I turn and take a quick photo of Chloe with me in it; she caught me first and hammed it up.

“Something occurred to me, I can go back in time with the help of a picture, and if she fucks something up, I want to be able to get you back.”

“Oh, dude, that makes perfect sense,” she said. “Can you only go back if you're in the picture? I was thinking it might be super cool if you could like go back into time to the 70's or 80's or something.”

“I don't know, I've never tried. Honestly, we were always in such a hurry, that I didn't get a lot of time to experiment and practice.”

“How awesome would that be to go back to see The Ramones or something and take a picture of yourself with them!”

“Um... yeah, suppose it works, I'm still a normal person, how the hell would I even get to see them?”

“Bring me! I'll get us backstage. Shit, I'd be a groupie for The Ramones!”

I push her, “Somethings never change, but they probably need to.”

“Never, you wouldn't know what to do if I wasn't like this.”

_That's absolutely true._ I watch her for a bit before she glances at me to see what I'm doing. I turn away quickly, hoping she didn't catch me.

“So,” she asks, “After you killed me did you ever use the rewind again?”

I felt my face fall and tears spring to my eyes, Chloe was in front of me instantly, hugging me, “No, I didn't mean it like that! It's no big deal, see?” She steps back and does some absurd dance, “I'm still here, so you've got that to look forward to.”

“I'm sorry, Chloe, you're right. It's just I don't think I can go back to not having you again.”

“I'm not going anywhere,” she steps away and I nod at her. “You see, I've been thinking about that and the whole tornado thing.”

“I couldn't destroy Arcadia Bay either.”

“No, that's not the point. We don't know that it's you that caused the problem by keeping me alive. There's never been a tornado here, and from what you've said this Max really fucked everything up.”

“Maxine. She goes by Maxine, which makes me know that she's an evil person.”

Chloe laughs, “Noted. My personal and completely educated viewpoint is that your tornado was caused by all of the other Maxes screwing around with things. Well, you included I guess. That's why I asked if you played around with time after... you know.” She points at herself and draws a finger across her throat.

Laughing, I answer, “I did use the power, it's too freaking useful not to. I cheated on some of my tests in college that way. I got my first job that way, all kinds of things really. I tried hard not to. Warren did a lot of investigation into that, he's a lot like you, and we decided it was best not to. Part of our problem is that he doesn't believe that I'm not using it, and he doesn't trust me.”

“Well, apparently, it sounds like he's got a point in not trusting you.”

I turn red, “Maybe.” I go back to packing things.

“Part of the problem? What's the other part?”

“I'm in love with a dead girl.” I answer without thinking. I look up quickly, embarrassed.

She starts laughing and pushes me, “Nah, I figured as much. Why else would you come looking for me so badly.”

“Yeah, well don't let it go to your head.”

We finish up and carry the stuff back to her truck and drive to her place. She parks on the street, and we walk up to her door.

“I'll try to sneak you in, it'll be awkward explaining why you're spending the night. There's no way they'd believe nothing is going on.” She leers at me, “Not yet anyway.”

“Chloe Price, I'm not that type of girl!”

“Yeah, we'll see after you've spent time with me. Let's go but be ready to defend yourself from the third degree. If you see an opening to rewind time and get us out of there, jump on it.”

We sneak in the house, and just as she predicted, her mother and David are sitting on the sofa.

“Chloe?” David shouts, and stands up.

“Fuck,” she mumbles. “Just go along with me.”

“Yeah, of course it's me, David. Glad to see your powers of deduction are so in tune.”

“Don't take that tone with me, we worry about your well being. And what is she doing here? You're a Blackwell student violating curfew. Perhaps I should call Principal Wells right now.”

“Leave her alone. It's my fault we missed curfew because we were on a date. Are you homophobic now too?”

“Jesus Christ, what is it with you? Do you even know who she is? Not a single person on the campus talks to her. Principal Wells and I believe she is dangerous.”

“Um... David, she's standing right here.” I say just as Chloe says “Yes, I know who she is. I'm able to see past the prejudices of a bunch of ignorant teenage fucks. Something you should learn how to do.”

Joyce comes over and shouts at all of us, “Alright, that's enough from all of you; Chloe, David and Max!” Surprisingly those two stop talking and look at her. I'm stunned that I'm included; it's like I belong. I can't help smiling. “What are you two doing?” she asks Chloe and I.

“Since we missed curfew, I said she could spend the night here.” At her mother's look Chloe rolled her eyes, “Mom, I'm an adult and we just met! We'll keep our clothes on the whole time.”

“Chloe Price that is not what I meant, and you know it. I just want to make sure everything is alright.”

“I think Principal Wells should hear about this,” David said.

“You will not be the one to tell him, do you understand me? Don't try to tell me you didn't get into trouble when you were 18 years old. I know I did, and I don't see how one night can hurt.” She looks at both of us, “Chloe will be driving her to class in time, I'm sure and let's just keep it clean, shall we?”

“Mom!” Chloe shouts, and stamps up the stairs, “My room is up here.”

“Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Madsen, I promise we'll be good. And Mr. Madsen, I'm aware of my reputation on campus, and all I can do is apologize for... the way I've acted in the past. That is not me anymore. Please believe me.”

I go up the stairs to Chloe's room, somewhat nervous to see what this Chloe is like but also because I'm spending the night with her; everything has changed from the time of our sleepovers. Chloe is standing at her door, and bows ceremoniously, “Welcome to The Chloe Cave”, she has a sign with that on the door as well as the Wrong Way sign that was there before. We walk in, “There are only two rules in The Chloe Cave, 'What happens in The Chloe Cave, stays in The Chloe Cave' and “Never talk about The Chloe Cave.'”

“You are such a nerd,” I say as I look around. Her room is almost identical to the way it was. There are even pirate things. She's still a grunge punk weirdo, who has forgotten how to clean. She does have a few more science-fiction things than she did before. There is a Millennium Falcon model and a poster of Pris from Blade Runner, as well as some other stuff.

She lays down on the bed, “I need to medicate after that fight. Did you interfere, by the way.”

“No,” I jump on the bed, laying on her chest and looking into her face, “I promise you right here, right now, forever, that I will not make time jumps unless you know about it ahead of time. Well, or if I need a job, or somebody pisses me off. Including you.”

She kisses me, “That sounds fair.”

I feel tingling in my toes, just like when I kissed her on the dare in a different life. I stand up, “You smoke your brains out, you stoner. I'm going to look at all your stuff and decide if I'm going to stick around.”

While I'm checking all of her stuff out, we're talking. This Chloe does seem to drink a bit more, there is a bottle of rum hidden in one of her drawers. I take a sip of it to see what she sees.

“Way to go, Max!” She takes a deep pull on her joint. “Next job is to get you high!”

“Yucky, why do you drink that stuff? It's just nasty.”

“'Yucky'? Could you be anymore girly? Stick with me, I'll man you up.”

“Do you like being a mechanic? You were always good at designing machines and making things like that up. I'd draw a picture of a colorful butterfly and you'd draw an intricate blueprint allowing you to manufacture the thing when you got the Man off your back.”

She starts laughing, “I never did that... um... here. But you know, I always thought being an engineer of some kind would have been so cool. I was looking into chemical engineering once; building things and chemistry? What's not to love?”

I look at her in admiration, “How about all of it? I'll stick with art.”

“If the pictures Maxine took are the same as yours, you're pretty bad ass at it. Is that what you did for the last five years?” She screws her face up, “God, that is weird to say.”

I laugh, “It's funny because it's so natural to me. I know in my head I'm 23, but being back with you, it sure doesn't feel any different than it did. Yes, I started out working as the staff photographer for the Arcadia Bay Journal, but got laid off. Now I'm a freelance photographer. I've sold pictures to probably fifteen different sources. It's much better than working for a company. I like it.”

We change for bed and crawl in together, laying face to face to talk some more.

“Max, I don't think I told you what I was doing with Nathan Prescott this morning. I want to be clear about everything too.” I was expecting to hear about him drugging and trying to rape her, but that was not it.

“I owe my dealer, Frank over five thousand. I don't know how I'm going to come up with that kind of money so I came on the brilliant idea of blackmailing Arcadia Bay's richest jackass.”

“Five thousand, Chloe! How are we going to come up with that kind of money quickly?”

She smiled at me, “We? Anyway, I managed to get pictures of him dealing drugs to some of his homeboys and not just weed; the guy is hardcore. Besides being a jag-off. I was meeting him there to... setup a payment plan. I guess I underestimated him.”

I lay my arm on her, “What am I going to do with you? If we can stay here, I should probably be able to make a bit of money pretty quickly. I can resell the pictures to the same sources since I haven't done that in this timeline.”

“Whoa, whoa. You trying to tie this free spirit down with your feminine guile?”

“And cash.”

“Oh, that's okay then.”

The talking stopped all of a sudden but we were good girls.

Chloe's alarm goes off and we take our turns in the shower. I pick out some of Chloe's clothes because we left Maxine's stuff in her truck. Chloe is a bit taller than me so I wear a pair of her shorts and a t-shirt. Chloe looks over my shoulder at me in the mirror, “Looking fine, Max Caufield, I may not be able to keep my hands off of you.” We go downstairs and see Joyce cooking breakfast, but David is not around.

“Morning you two,” she calls out. “Come eat breakfast, David has left for work already and I don't start until later.”

“That's alright, Mom, we'll get something on the way,” Chloe ushers me toward the door.

“Chloe, I want breakfast,” I whisper, “Your mom is the best cook in the world.”

“How do you.... Oh, for crap's sake. Fine.” Turning to Joyce, “Fine, Mom, but I want it clear that this is Max's idea and against my will.”

“Well, good. Max will be a good influence on you.” _God, I've heard that before!_

“How did you two sleep?” She asks.

“Mom! Let it go!” Chloe shouts.

“Chloe, I was just asking. It's a normal question.”

“We slept well, Mrs. Madsen, you have a nice house here,” I answer.

“Please call me, Joyce. I know Chloe is not the best housekeeper, were you able to clean up well enough?”

“I think that's putting it mildly, Joyce,” I start laughing and put my arm around Chloe, “She's a disaster. But I had fun looking at all of her stuff to see what kind of a person she is.”

“You mean there's more to Chloe than a pile of dirty clothes?”

“Yeah, great, Max and Mom, the Comedy Duo. Can we eat so I can get out of here?”

I kiss her cheek, “In a minute, let the adults talk now, honey.”

“Oh, Chloe, I like her! She's going to fit in quite nicely.” Chloe sits down at the table, grumpily and I help Joyce with breakfast. We finish breakfast and head for Chloe's truck.

“I think I'm going to call in sick and spend the day going through Maxine's computer and see what she's been up to.”

“Good idea, but I don't want you to get in trouble. Maybe we should wait until after work?”

“Wow, there's the Stick it to the Man attitude that I love,” she said. “Don't worry about it, they love me there. Not only am I kick ass at my job, I give the place respectability.”

I laugh, “Alright, just don't have fun without me and think about me slaving away in school with a bunch of people that hate me. I expect you to pick me up on time!”

“We can move your stuff up to your room after school. Remember to keep an eye out for Maxine; I bet she's going to try fucking things up today. But she seems like she's practiced this a lot more than you have, so she's probably looking out for you too.”

“Shit, I didn't think about that. What am I going to do? If I see her, should I confront her?”

She nods, “But you need to be careful. You got here somehow, and the only way I can think is that she did it. What I can't figure out is why she would do that.”

She pulls up in front of the school and I look at the building and back at her, not knowing what to do. We've never kissed in public but I want to. Chloe takes care of it for me, she leans over and kisses me goodbye. “Don't think too much about it, do what you want.”

I smile, “Maybe I'll keep rewinding so you have to do that over and over.”

“Get out of my truck, Mush Face.”

I have some time before class starts, so I look around the campus and try talking to people again. It's a little easier, most of them aren't trying to get away from me anymore. Kate Marsh is even openly friendly, saying some appropriate quote from the Bible about forgiveness and everything. Warren and Brooke are sitting together near where Chloe dropped me off, I'm sure they saw us kiss. They both mention that it's good to be who I am and not worry about anything. _I hope everyone just assumes my problem is that I'm uptight about coming out._ I cautiously ask them about physics and time travel and see if there's anything they can recommend about it.

“Max, I didn't know you were interested in that stuff,” Warren says. “Brooke and I read about this stuff all the time. Sure, we can recommend a whole lot. Are you interested in pure science-fiction or the more realistic stuff?”

“As real as possible,” I tell them. “I was thinking of a photo series about this and want it to be as believable as possible. You know, on the same subject, say you're a time traveler, and you suddenly meet a version of yourself who is also a time traveler. How would that happen? What would happen and how would you fix it?”

Brooke answers, “Oh wow, there are a lot of theories about that. I believe that two of a person can't or shouldn't exist in the same reality. Warren disagrees with me.”

He turns to her, “Yeah, we fight a lot about it, but we get to make up too.”

_Oh gross, I do not want to get involved in this shit,_ “Hey, I'll leave you two alone.”

In between classes, I go to my dorm to see if she's been there. The whiteboard is the same, and the room is still empty except for a note on the bed.

I'm sure you go by the name Max. I don't know what you're doing here or how you got here, but you should leave. I finally got everything the way I want it, and I don't need you fucking it up.

Stay away from Chloe, you'll regret it. Again.

I take a picture of the note and text it to Chloe.

Me: Wtf now I'm scared

Chloe: Want me to come to your room in case? I got the gun”

Me: Kind of but is that a good idea?”

Chloe: I can check her comp there too

Chloe: Brt don't worry about me

But I am worried, Maxine sounds kind of desperate in the note.

During my Photography class, I hear Principal Wells call my name over the loud speaker to come down to the office immediately. The Mean Girl Bunch start laughing; now that I've opened up, I guess it's okay to make fun of me.

When I get to the office, Principal Wells and David Madsen try to bust me for violating curfew and causing disturbances and causing conflict with the other students. I look at David and shake my head sadly, “Joyce is going to be so disappointed in you.” He yells at me to leave her out of this. I get out of trouble and make them both squirm by telling them I was on a date with Chloe; mentioning homophobia and going to the Arcadia Bay Journal to talk about Blackwell's treatment of differing sexual orientations does wonders.

I text Chloe again:

Me: You'd be proud, I threw homophobia in wells and david face!

Me: I'm not getting expelled

Me: This time

Chloe: That bastard told wells anyway?”

Me: Y

Me: Told him Joyce will be disappointed and threatened the newspaper

Chloe: Way to go, Bad Max!

Me: r u in my room?

Chloe: putting my scent all over your bed

Me: gross brt”

I head over to my dormitory. Of course, it's empty, everyone is still in class. My white board has been changed; Chloe must have written the Anarchy symbol and “If I can't dance to it, it's not my revolution. - EG.”

I open the door, to see her laying on my bed on her side with the laptop in front of her. She's moved all of Maxine's stuff up here but left it in the couple of boxes.

She looks up, “I'd make you a drink but I know you think it's 'yucky.'”

“Hmph,” I grunt at her. “Thank you for moving my stuff up here!” I jump on the bed behind her, “But I'm not doing shit but lay right here. Find anything useful?”

“Oh hells yeah,” she lays on her back to look at me, putting the laptop on her stomach. “Apparently, she's figured out how to time travel with any picture, like we wanted to!”

“You wanted, I'm still not sure going to The Ramones is all that big of a deal.”

“What? Whoa, Max, that's a deal breaker. I am outta here.”

“Good riddance. Where did she go then?” I look at the computer, reaching across Chloe.

“She looked for some guy named James Amber when he was trying to get elected as the District Attorney a couple of years ago. I thought that might be Rachel's dad so I found some stuff about him. It turns out he was married to a drug addict and his wife was not his daughter's mother, no big deal except he never told a single person about it. He didn't get elected and they moved away shortly after his campaign crashed and burned.”

She clicks to another page, “She went to these pages too. That looks like the grade school I went to when I was a kid.”

“Oh my God, Chloe, it is!”

“Look at this one, it's a class photo of our third grade class,” she pointed to each of us. “Aren't we the most adorable?”

“Oh my God, so she went back as an 8 year old and went insane in class and got taken out. I wonder where she went. 8 years old is pretty helpless when an adult gets a hold of you. So we never grew up together.”

We look at each other, “Do you think us not meeting caused more problems?” I ask.

“No, I think it helped for some reason. Look, we've never had this nasty tornado you talk about. Mark Jefferson never killed anybody from Arcadia Bay. Nathan Prescott is an ass wipe, but he doesn't seem to have killed anybody.”

“We have to think carefully what to do. It sounds like she's going to do something to you, from her note. We need to protect you, you know there's safety in numbers.”

“You're not allowed to throw my words back in my face,” she grumbles.

“Another important thing, I'm not going back to my timeline. You're here, and not in mine. The changes she made have kept you here, so I don't want to undo anything she did.”

“I've also been thinking about that. Who says this timeline is wrong, and yours is right? Every timeline created is full of people who belong there and they are not going to be happy if things get fucked up, anymore than you were in yours.”

“So what do we do, Chloe? She's going to try and get rid of both of us, I'm sure.”

“One good thing, I think, is that she doesn't know why you're here either, or how you got here.”

“Wait, how do you think she screwed the third grade up? When I've gone back with a picture I'm limited to where I can go.”

“So, what happens? Do you stay long enough to do your deed and move on? You know, mark your territory so to speak.”

“Chloe! Why? That's the only question I have right now. Why are you the way you are?”

She rolls over all the way and kisses me for a long time, “Because you wouldn't have me any other way.”

I kiss her back, “Yeah, well, don't count on it.”

“Just before I... uh... let you go, I was bouncing back forth with different photographs to catch Mark Jefferson and stop him from killing you. I managed to convince you to tell David everything and he got Jefferson arrested. I had a pretty serious time trying to avoid getting killed by Jefferson and stop you from getting killed and then I was walking up the path to the lighthouse with you holding me. Before I left I told you, you had to tell me what was going on because I would come back from a different timeline.”

“So, wait, you mean you eventually caught up with yourself?” I nod.

“So that's what she did then. She went to third grade and lived her life out again. Jesus, I feel sorry for her. She must have hated me so bad that she'd go through anything to avoid meeting me.”

Something about that didn't make any sense. “Why would she hate you? I can only believe that all of the Maxes have the same basic tastes; photography, new age music and Chloe. I think she wanted to stop from getting close to you. Since she could, I think she stopped you from meeting Rachel Amber too. You were heart broken when she went missing and devastated when we found her body. I think she avoided getting close to all the other students for the same reason.”

“Is that what you would do?”

“WWMD? No, I want to stay with you but I can easily see myself doing that if I couldn't. But it's going to backfire. Once Chloe is in your head, she doesn't leave it.” I flop over on my back in desperation, and whisper in a deep voice, “The Horror, The Horror.”

“Together forever, punk,” she leans over me and we're thinking about other things for a little while.

“So what do we do? How do we stop her?” she asks me.

“I'm not sure we need to do anything anymore. I don't see what she can do, expect maybe go back in time and... um....” I draw my finger across her throat.

“Shit, you don't think she would do you?”

“Honestly, no. I could never kill anybody, least of all you.” 

She rolls on to her back and I lay on her chest, we're both lost in thought. The conversation with Warren and Brooke pops into my head about the 'photo series'. I push up on Chloe's stomach quickly, making her grunt.

“Dude, I have an idea!” I leap off the bed and start rummaging around the boxes for more Polaroid film.

“Shit, she doesn't have any, she went to digital cameras.” I groan.

“Um... what's your idea? What are you looking for?”

“We'll have to make do,” I grab her hand and head for the door, “Let's go take some pictures.”

We go outside, “Okay, here's my idea. We're going to wander all over the campus and take pictures of ourselves. Since none of us know why I'm here, she's got to try and change things to get rid of me and probably you.” I look at my camera, “I've got 16 pictures left, so here goes.”

We wander around the campus taking selfies with the two of us in them. A couple at the dormitory, a bunch in the main courtyard, some inside the buildings and two at the parking lot.

“Here,” I hand her half of them. “We never know what's going to happen so you take some. We'll have to make things up when it happens.” I take the picture I took at the junkyard out of my bag and give that to Chloe too. “If everything fails, I want you to have this to remember me by.”

“Dude, it's not happening,” she comes closer and hugs me for a long time. Several people walk past us, most of them are smiling. We start wandering around the school eventually winding up in the parking lot.

“Do you think she's going to come looking for us?” I ask.

“I have no idea. If she can travel through any picture, who says she won't go all the way back and fuck up World War 2.”

I laugh, “You goof. How would she do that? It's like your whole Ramones fantasy; she's still a normal person!”

As if on cue, Maxine walks out from behind somebody's car. She's not dressed the way I dress at all. She's got a nice blouse with a short skirt and heels. Her hair is longer than mine, and done up kind of stylishly. Oddly, I'm jealous that she can pull it off. I raise my eyebrows looking at Chloe.

“Nice outfit,” Chloe says, sarcastically. “At least she doesn't plan on running anywhere, Max.”

“What are you doing here?” She says to me, ignoring Chloe.

“You tell me, I just suddenly found myself in the bathroom like the first time.”

“Why did you save her again? You two can't last, you know. Love always fades and dies.”

“Whoa,” Chloe says, “Depressed much. That's not my experience.”

“That's because I saved you from it, Chloe. I stopped you from meeting me and Rachel Amber. Those other people were just filler.”

“What? Have you been stalking her?” I ask. “Why would you do that? Just stay away from us.”

“Because... I wanted too,” she fumbled with her words. “There's two of us here now. I don't know what's going to happen, do you?” she says, implying that one of us has to go.

“I told you, I don't know how I got here. I let Chloe go in my world, and I've regretted it the entire time. Nothing in my life had any meaning.”

“If I remember right, you could have had Warren.”

“I have Warren and I don't want him. Maxine, Chloe is my only light.” I stand closer to Chloe and take her hand.

“Goddamn it, it's not going to work.” she steps closer.

Chloe pulls out Nathan's gun, “Step back. I don't trust you.”

“Chloe,” I shout, “Don't kill her! She has to go back to my time.”

She looks at the gun and then at the two of us, “How do you think that's going to work? Do you even understand this whole thing?”

“No,” Chloe says, “Do you? We've read some and got somebody working on answers.”

She laughs, “Warren doesn't have a clue. Nice guy and all but he likes romantic fantasy.”

“I need to end this shit.” She steps back and reaches in her purse, a very nice looking one, way different than my beat up messenger bag. She pulls out a picture, “I'm going back to stop all of this. You're fucking everything up.” 

She focuses on her picture, “Chloe, stop her!” I pull out the picture I kept of the parking lot and the two of us seem to leave at the same time.

I come back with Chloe standing next to me, “Chloe, she found us over here, don't let go of my hand!” We run over to where she found us from behind the car, I pull Chloe over to stand behind where I think she came in. A couple of minutes later, she comes into existence and Chloe and I tackle her. I drop the parking lot photo and hold on to her tightly and keep holding Chloe's hand, “Hold up a picture for me! Any one!” Chloe grabs a photo and holds it in front of my face, and the three of us are suddenly in the yard in front of the dormitory.

“New one!” I shout, squeezing Chloe's hand, “Don't let go!” Chloe grabs one but before I can focus, Maxine pulls us to our third grade photo session in the gym. I recover quickly and focus on the picture Chloe is still holding, “Chloe grab another picture!” We appear back in the main Blackwell building. 

I look at the picture Chloe has and focus on it and we're back in the junkyard shack. I glance down, and see that Maxine is bleeding from her nose and holding her head tightly, whimpering. My own head is splitting wide open and I feel blood dripping into my mouth. A thought dully penetrates the haze and I drop the photo in front of her, “Go there!” I nudge Maxine with my foot. It's a picture of me, not her, maybe something will happen.

The travel is a lot harsher this time, my vision gets blurry and tunnels to a narrow point. I can feel the blood almost pouring out of my nose and hear Chloe shout in pain.

“Max, your ears!” I let go of Maxine and feel blood dripping from my ear as well. There is a loud crackling noise like static electricity and suddenly we're in a large open room with fuzzy openings all over, stretching to further than we can see. I look in one and it seems to be a picture of the Blackwell courtyard.

Still holding Chloe tightly, I look at her questioningly. She's as clueless as I am.

“What the fuck did you do, Max?” Chloe says, still holding my hand.

“I didn't know what to do to stop her so I just shifted as quickly as possible with the two of you.”

“Oh shit, you really fucked everything up. I've never seen this. Do you know where we are?” Maxine cries.

“No, of course, not. You were going to go back and kill Chloe. I can't allow that. Chloe is everything to me, I'm sorry you don't understand that. I'd rather be stuck with her here than not have her at all.”

Maxine crumbles to the floor, tears streaming down her cheeks, “I wasn't going to kill Chloe, what kind of monster do you think I am? I could never hurt her. I was going to get her parents to move away somehow.”

She covers her face with her hands, sobbing, “I do understand that, that's what you don't understand. I couldn't make the decision you did. I couldn't choose between the woman I love and an entire town of people I love too.”

“You must have done something?” I said.

“I used the picture to go back, and then left the bathroom before Prescott got there. I found our third grade photo and stopped us from being friends, I found James Amber and forced him to move away; I still love you Chloe, I didn't want you to hurt any more if I could stop it. I gave an anonymous note to David Madsen about Mark Jefferson. I did all this so I don't have to make that decision. Ever.”

Chloe walked up and grabs her face in her hands, “What made you think it was okay to fuck with my life so badly?” She starts crying, looking at Chloe.

“Chloe,” she whispers, “I'm so sorry. I don't want to hurt you. I want you to be happy.”

Chloe screamed in her face, in all the different times I've known Chloe, I've never seen her so angry.

“You made me the happiest I've ever been in my entire life! And then you tried to take it away from me? I want to pound the shit out of you and then shoot you!” She pulls the gun out again.

“Chloe,” I take her gun hand, “Don't. We'll just leave her here. We've got our pictures, and we'll take her purse.”

Chloe tosses Maxine's face aside, and reaches down and grabs her purse. I reach into my bag and pull out a picture of the Blackwell courtyard where we were sitting on the fountain. We come back, still sitting on the fountain. My nose is gushing blood but neither of us care. We hug each other tightly, sobbing at what we almost lost.

“I love you, Max,” she whispers in my ear.

Victoria and her posse walk by clicking their tongues, “These two are disgusting. Take it somewhere else you perverts.”

Chloe flips them off, but I tell Victoria, “I'll always love you as friend, Victoria, but I'm with Chloe now. You need to move on with your life.” I can't recall ever seeing Victoria so flustered, in any of my lives.

I look at Chloe again, “I think we should burn every one of these pictures and the contents of her purse.”

“Why not the whole purse?”

“I want to remember what she almost did. Besides, did you see how cute I looked? And with those heels I was as tall as you.”

-o-o-o-

Chloe is driving as quickly as she can along highway 5 to Portland.

“Slow down! We don't want to get arrested before we even get there,” I tell her.

“I can't help it. This is the best fifth anniversary I could imagine.”

We're headed for the Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall in Portland, Oregon, February 4 th , 1978. The Ramones are playing.


End file.
